A few weeks ago I was having lunch with my Nana and she casually mentioned that she had gone riding on a motorcycle the day previously.
Privately, I was thinking the thoughts that any sane girl would have: "They let my 93 year old grandma go riding on a motorcycle? Uh huh. The dementia is progressing more quickly than I'd thought possible. She's really lost it this time".
But I kept those observations to myself.
Which turned out to be a fine and dandy idea since this afternoon I was cruising down the hallway on my way to another lunch date with The Nana when these pictures, posted oh-so-casually on a cork board, brought me to an abrupt halt:
I'll be damned.
My Nana is a Harley chick.
